


Ballroom blitz

by hikarufly



Series: After Twelve Stories [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 20:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5177828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikarufly/pseuds/hikarufly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gosh, I got explicit. It's all my friends' fault. Don't fall for it, prepare your kleenex for crying, not otherwise.<br/>Clara's point of view, the Doctor and her go back to the 70s, but they may not be cool as they should...<br/>Also, English is not my first language, so I apologize for any awful grammar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ballroom blitz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cappyforever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cappyforever/gifts), [Naphta85](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naphta85/gifts).



Clara was driving home, singing along some David Bowie song on the radio. She did not know all the lyrics, just the chorus, and hummed the rest.

«The Jean Genie lives on his back / The Jean Genie loves chimney stacks / He's outrageous, he screams and he bawls / Jean Genie let yourself go!»

She taught class during the morning: Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre. Lots of girls swooned and sighed, while the boys were not really impressed. She promised to get more details on Dracula, when it would have been its turn, and ended the lessons giving less homework than usual. She didn't feel like oppressing them and, to be frank, she could not think herself spending another evening correcting papers.

After lunch, she prepared the next few day's classes, and then she went to visit her granny, charming and sweet as ever. She had given Clara some home-made meals of various nature, of which she was extremely grateful. She got home early, dined and opened herself a bottle of wine, pouring a glass and storing the rest in the fridge, together with all granny's gifts. She sat on the couch and felt extremely restless. She had a very normal day, not even boring, but she hadn't seen him at all for days now... she craved adventures and didn't feel like relaxing.

She hadn't even thought about Danny, for once. Every time he came back into her mind, she felt guilty for forgetting him, then she remembered Christina Rossetti's poems and felt a little bit better. Then, well, a mad Scotsman with a box usually showed up and took her on marvellous adventures...

She heard the sound of the TARDIS and smiled the brightest smile of the day. The spaceship landed in her living room, scattering papers around and making the curtains dance for a moment. The Doctor opened the door.

«Alcohol?» he asked, stranded. She raised the glass as in a toast and drank it all that was left in one sip.

«I deserved it.» Clara explained.

«What an awful thing to say.» he considered, letting her in.

She followed him to the control room. He had his guitar, hanging on his side. She thought about his “farewell party” in the Middle Ages and smiled broadly. He raised one of the mighty eyebrows.

«What?» asked him, looking at the screens.

«You know, you should really exploit that guitar's potential. Why don't we go somewhere cool?» she started to say, caressing gently the console, as to gain at least the TARDIS' side. His eyebrow stayed up.

«Define “cool”. The last time I attempted on something “cool” you complained for weeks.»

She ignored the second sentence.

«You know... some place really revolutionary but fun. Why don't we go to London in the 1970s?» Clara suggested. «We may meet Bowie. Surely you like Bowie.»

The Doctor put up his “I know best, little human” face, and she was the one to raise the eyebrows now.

«We played together once. Best concert of his career, of course. He copied my look.» he stated, but Clara was not entirely convinced he was telling the truth.

They looked at each other and after a few looks back and forth, she convinced him, and they flew.

 

The TARDIS landed, on a surprisingly warm evening, and Clara got out, dressed in a white and yellow dress, with high white boots, white round earrings and a white headband on her “hairspray the musical” coiffure. She looked perfectly 70s, and when she was out of the blue box she froze and lost her smile. The Doctor came out of the TARDIS looking like she was 20 years from the future, and just out of a grudge rock band, only cleaner.

«Doctor... this is definitely NOT London» she said, looking at the square nearby, with a big church-like building that did not really look like anything from the capital city of the United Kingdom. She looked at him and he looked around, puzzled for a moment. He cleared his throat.

«Glasgow. I think it is Glasgow.» he said, and then smiled an apology, but Clara crossed her arms and frowned.

«I said revolutionary but fun, not “grey but Scottish”» she stated.

«Well... I am grey but Scottish, too, and I am cool.» he replied, attempting another smile but failing again to impress her. He sighed. «Come on, we'll find a place, surely.»

She was not willing to be impressed and was too disappointed for not having what she wanted. But he looked sorry, after the first moments of “it IS cool!” face and in the end he took his guitar, then took her arm, unlocking her defensive pose, and dragged her along Queen Street.

“The Rock Garden” was a few minutes walk away. They stopped, and Clara was still not impressed.

«Let's give it a try, at least!» he begged, or at least tried not to sound as he was.

She shrugged and they lined up behind some Glaswegian youngsters.

«Go dancing with you daddy, sweetheart?» asked the guy at the door.

That was it. No one could say something so annoying to her, in Glasgow! She got in, flushed and the Doctor tried to follow but was stopped at the entrance, because of the guitar.

Clara didn't care, was too annoyed. This is just the kind of thing that wouldn't happen with his old, young self. He may had been clumsy and rubbish at flirting, and imprecise with dates and places, but at least looked the proper age. She was angry, and so wasn't thinking properly. The place was not so bad, thank God, so she calmed down after a bit and decided to enjoy herself. She started do dance along the music, proper good 1970s music. The DJ was doing his best, she thought, and people looked surprise sometimes at her, stranded by her knowledge of new songs, just out on the radio the day before.

The live band was due to arrive in half an hour, and she needed a drink, so she went directly to the bar and asked for something “fresh and alcoholic” because “of course she deserved it, no matter what he said”. The barman of course didn't know who “he” was, but presumed he was the boyfriend who let his very pretty girl alone, so basically an idiot.

She sipped her drink from a technicolor straw, while someone sat next to her. When she turned she almost screamed: it was the Doctor, but not her Doctor. Tall, well-built, very short dark hair, a leather jacket and a plain sweater underneath, big ears, not a bad nose. The former soldier, the man who survived the Time War but was tormented by it, sharp and tough on the outside as fragile on the inside. The Ninth.

“Ok Clara, no panic, control yourself.” she thought, and as the perfect control-freak analysed the situation to be in charge. The Doctor didn't seem to know her and looked extremely confident, oppositely to what she may have predicted.

«Hi.» he said, smiling. Definitely something wrong with him. Well, he had a very good smile... she drank again, for courage.

«Hi...» she replied, smiling broadly. If the Doctor, her Doctor, found out... but he was nowhere to be seen, where was he? He had abandoned her?

“Fine. Very good indeed. I will do as I please.”

«Here all alone?» asked him.

«Apparently, not anymore.» she replied, winking. Had she actually winked? Oh yes, she did.

He smiled back, with a very naughty smile.

«You're from the North, like me. Or, as the Scottish say, down south. Would you dance with me?» he asked then, and she knew in a way that he was not the Doctor. She stepped near him and put her hand on his chest.

«Why not?» she replied, and felt a mixture of terror and relief. Only one heart. It may be the Doctor in human form, or just someone who looked just like him? But how did he get the same clothes? She stopped believing in coincidences, since he travelling in time and space became frequent.

He took it as a good sign and brought her to the dance floor: he looked like a tough guy, very very soft on the inside, and she recognised that his smile was really, really nice. He got the moves, anyway, and she dances wildly along. She enjoyed herself a lot, too much perhaps, but alcohol, freedom and love was in the air, and she had already decided to have so much fun. To make him see she could, even without him.

«And this is for Clara.» a Scottish voice said.

She turned to the stage, surprised and, for a moment, horrified. Her Doctor, the 12th Doctor, was on the stage. With the band!

A riff of electric guitar, and he was off.

 

_Oh it's been getting so hard_

_Living with the things you do to me_

_My dreams are getting so strange_

_I'd like to tell you everything I see_

 

Clara widened her eyes: oh, even the subtext!

 

_Oh, I see a man at the back as a matter of fact_

_His eyes are as red as the sun_

_And the girl in the corner let no one ignore her_

_Cause she thinks she's the passionate one_

 

Subtext and jealousy? That was too much. She got closer to the Ninth Doctor, and decided to give him total attention. She did not think of anything else. HE had to see, though.

 

_Oh yeah! It was like lightning_

_Everybody was fighting_

_And the music was soothing_

_And they all started grooving_

 

_Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah_

_And the man in the back said everyone attack_

_And it turned into a ballroom blitz_

_And the girl in the corner said boy I want to warn you_

_It'll turn into a ballroom blitz_

_Ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz_

 

The entire club started to dance, and Clara too. She didn't see the Doctor enjoying himself quite too much with his guitar, getting the full attention of the band, and didn't see also that his gaze was drawn away, before he could see his past self dancing, to a blond head...

 

_Oh reaching out for something_

_Touching nothing's all I ever do_

_Oh I softly call you over_

_When you appear there's nothing left of you_

 

_And the man in the back is ready to crack_

_As he raises his hands to the sky_

_And the girl in the corner is everyone's woman_

_She could kill you with a wink of her eye_

 

«What is your name?» he asked, trying to talk over the music.

«Clara!» she replied.

«I'm John» he said.

«John Smith?» she asked, giggling. He didn't know what to say, but he seemed happy to have amused her.

 

_Oh yeah! It was electric_

_So perfectly hectic_

_And the band started leaving_

_'Cause they all stopped breathing_

 

_Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah_

_And the man in the back said everyone attack_

_And it turned into a ballroom blitz_

_And the girl in the corner said boy I want to warn you_

_It'll turn into a ballroom blitz_

_Ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz_

 

Clara had to admit, he was really good. He had the most expressing eyes, he could dance properly, he was a real man and a gentleman on the dance-floor, making sure no-one tripped on her and gave her space enough.

«Why don't we go somewhere else?» asked Clara, talking directly to his ear, quite not believing her own courage.

«At the end of this one.»

 

_Oh yeah! It was like lightning_

_Everybody was fighting_

_And the music was soothing_

_And they all started grooving_

 

_Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah_

_And the man in the back said everyone attack_

_And it turned into a ballroom blitz_

_And the girl in the corner said boy I want to warn you_

_It'll turn into a ballroom blitz_

_Ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz_

 

_It's it's a ballroom blitz_

_It's it's a ballroom blitz_

_It's it's a ballroom blitz_

_Yeah, it's a ballroom blitz_

 

The entire club clapped and roared their appreciation, and Clara and John too, but it didn't take long for them to get their own space... and time.

They got another drink and he suggested to show her his little apartment, just upstairs. It was fun enough but less noisy – you could still hear the music. The last guy that suggested something like that to Clara after only an hour or two of acquaintance in a club got a punch in the face. But this was different: even though it was not her Doctor it was still the Doctor. Maybe he wasn't Time Lord for a while, ok, but she may discover where his TARDIS was and help him in any way possible. She didn't mean to do anything else, or at least that was what she pretended to herself. And yes, okay, she may still be angry with the Scottish guy, for getting her to a nicotine-coloured town and abandoning her – actually, she did that, but of course she would not admit it.

 

John's flat was small, a bit messy but not uncomfortable, just like his TARDIS really. She sat down and he brought her more alcohol for both, sitting next to her.

«So, what is a Northerner doing up here?» she asked, looking around. She felt safe, and a little excited.

The music started again, downstairs, but was not so loud. An electric guitar murmured in the background.

«Me and my sister Rose are looking for some people. We are private detectives.» he explained.

Her drink almost went down the wrong pipe. So he was human, and he was not alone.

«Where is your sister?» she asked, curiously.

«Out on duty. I don't like her to do the night shifts, but she said I needed to have fun, I've worked very hard the last few days.»

She was smiling again, and could take her eyes off him.

«There is something fun about me?» asked the Doctor.

«No, it's just... you don't look like a private detective.» she said.

«In a good way, I hope.» he replied, with a smile too. She blushed.

«And what are you doing here, all alone in Glasgow?» asked the Doctor.

«Just out for the night. I am not alone, I'm... with my dad.» she said, and laughed. She was getting outrageous by the minute.

«With your dad? Out dancing?» he asked, baffled.

«He tried to be cool, as he does, and I didn't want him to make a fool of myself. So I...shook him off.» she explained, and he laughed.

«Parents are like that. Mine were» he said, getting sad for a moment. She caressed his cheek, and their gaze met. She knew he was not talking about Gallifrey, but about imaginary parents the TARDIS might have created in his mind. Somewhere in the apartment there was a fob-watch full of energy, or maybe Rose had it. Her Doctor had explained very badly about it, and then she had read it from the library inside the control room.

She caressed his cheek, and their gaze met. The electric guitar had stopped, nothing to distract her. John Smith the Northerner tried his luck: he got closer and kissed her lips. She really didn't mind.

 

They had some more drinks, a lot of them in fact, and they talked of nothing and everything. The rise and fall of Ziggy Stardust filled the air, which was pretty ironic since John and Clara kissed again during “Starman”. The leather jacket was the first one to go. He had some problems with the long boots, but they get rid of those too. Clara had stopped thinking a while ago: he was handsome, he was caring, he was and smelled nice... and the liquor had made them both more loose, and help them forget.

It was very late, and God knew where the other Doctor was, and yet Clara knew she was with him, in the end, and could finally take some liberties. She let her fingers slid under his jumper, and took it off. Had he been working out? He should really continue. He opened her dress, by sliding down her zip, and that too was on the floor. He dragged her to his bedroom, kissing her almost wildly. She unbuckled his belt and the trousers were almost off: he stumbled and fell on the bed, taking Clara with him. They both laughed, for half a minute at least, a drunken savage laugh. When they were able to stop, he got rid of the trousers, socks and shoes, and was then above, her, beginning to take care of her.

Taking care was just the right expression. While rock and roll music was playing, in some distant universe, he caressed her cheeks with the tip of his fingers, and let them run down her neck. Clara felt a very nice shivering down her spine, especially when he reached her chest. He lowered the straps of her bra and with a not-very-smooth movement – because of the alcohol – opened it. They couldn't help but giggle again for a bit, especially because they struggled to get it properly off. That too, though, got on the floor, and he reprised his work. His hands cupped her breasts, one by one, quickly but not roughly. He began to kiss her again, while his fingers went down to her belly and then, gently, running up her thighs. She could breath almost, as her blood rushed so rapidly through her veins that she could her it pumping in her ears. Her heart was running faster and faster, the anticipation was almost unbearable, as his lips and teeth tasted her nipples. His fingers reached the higher inner thigh and found their way to her clit. He got rid of her knickers, and his other hand was down her spine, trying to get her as close to him as he could. She decided to get also rid of his boxer, though it was not easy at first, since his erection was getting in his own pure glory.

If she had been sober, who knows if she would have get on with it? That Doctor, or best that men, whispered profanities in her ear, yet not violently, pleased she was willing, pleased she was wet and spreading her legs, while holding on his back, scratching it as he penetrated her with a strong thrust. She moaned, and he growled, and the sound was mixed with an electric guitar riff.

He followed the music for a few moments, and then got faster, and faster, and she adjusted her movement too, her nails desperately clinging to his skin and hurting him, as they both felt they reached the perfect moment, and lost themselves in pure pleasure.

 

When she opened her eyes, the light was just shining outside: a blade of orange sunbeam waked her up. She felt dizzy, tired but at the same time relaxed... at least, until she turned and saw the man lying naked beside her. She recollected: the booze, the music, the clothes on the floor, the kissing, the tongues, the fingers, the... she rubbed her face, felt suddenly quiet dirty now that she was sober and desperate for a coffee. She stood up as quietly as possible, as that morning after, at university, with that awful guy from Law. She dressed up as quickly and roughly as possible and went downstairs, hoping that the place was already deserted but she could find a way out of there.

She got lost and then she found the main room of the Rock Garden, and her heart felt like sinking and vanishing: the Doctor, her Doctor, was there, sat on the edge of the stage, with the guitar on his lap, silent. He raised his gaze and met hers.

«Can we go now?» he asked, raising his eyebrows.

He knew. Did he?

«Y-yes, yes, fast.» she replied. He stood up and let her pass through the door before him. She caught a glimpse of blond hair when he closed the main entrance.

They got to the TARDIS saying nothing at all. She felt sick now, guilty and angry. She was disappointed by herself, by him, by everything. She had a terrible headache and a few steps from the blue box she smelled coffee but was too scared to say anything.

«Get inside the TARDIS, I'll be there in a moment.» said the Doctor, taking his guitar off his shoulder and giving it to her. She watched him like she was imagining things.

She got inside the spaceship and was sure that she was buzzing very disapprovingly in her direction. She tried to straighten her hair, without effect, and put the guitar down where she believed it was safe. He got back after a few infinite minutes, bringing coffee and handing one over her. Clara thought it smelt very nice indeed and sipped it as she did not deserve it.

The Doctor seemed not to want to start the conversation. There was a very, very big elephant in the room, and Clara felt its weight on her heart.

«Please, say something» said she, in the end, when coffee was finished and the cups thrown away, sighing.

«What should I say?» asked him, like nothing happened.

«I don't know, I...» replied her, ending with a frustrated snarl.

«You were angry with me, frustrated maybe, you were bored, you just left me behind.» he started, and every word felt like a punch to Clara. «I tried to get your attention, you just ignored me, I saw something potentially disastrous, and you just decided to drink all night and sleep with my former self, in human form.»

Clara sat down, her cheeks flushed and lined with tears, and wiping them away with her hands, as they were annoying insects. She was starting to get angry again, but she also felt ashamed.

«You said it was awful for me to deserve alcohol. Maybe you were wrong.» she simply said, more resentful than she planned to be.

«No, I was not, Clara.» he replied, taking a level down and stopping the ship. He got closer to her.

«What, we will act like I never slept with him?» asked she, puzzled. He lowered his gaze, stretching a smile at the left corner of his mouth.

«Technically, you slept with me.» he said, but flushed and continued, looking at his boots «Well, I remember very little of tonight, I mean, from when I was my ninth self. I had to get human form to escape an idiotic alien form, I put on that detective thing here in Glasgow with Rose. I saw her in the audience and followed her, but she didn't see me.»

Clara felt jealousy stab her in the stomach. She knew who Rose was.

«Then, one day, I woke up totally naked, with a terrible hangover, remembering nothing at all apart from...» he started, showing something from his pocket: a white earring, the same Clara was wearing on one ear, and not the other.

«I didn't keep it at the time, by the way. I found it one hour ago on the floor of the club.» he said « Rose gave me my fob-watch back, helping with my hangover, we caught the bad guy and off we went on another adventure.»

«Why didn't you look for me, earlier?» she asked, and the Doctor caught her eyes. She shivered.

«Because I saw you were otherwise engaged. I distracted Rose, so you could... carry on.»

He turned his back on her.

«You were safe, and you may do as you please»

She couldn't see his eyes, but she felt every single word he said like a knife.

«So you... saw me?» she said, blushing.

«I have not a habit on spying on you, no.» he stated, and walked past the console, ahead to the staircase but she ran after him and took his arm.

«I am sorry.» she uttered.

«Sorry for what?» he didn't turn around as he replied.

«For... sleeping with someone else. Leaving you behind.» she explained, awkwardly.

He sighed.

«You didn't sleep with someone else, Clara.» he started, turning over, and his eyes were full of something she could not define: rage, love, lust, anguish. He was simply overwhelmed.

«You just found one of my former younger, athletic self. With all the advantage over me: one heart he can devote to anyone he chooses. And the thing that I cannot understand is why you just decided to sleep with him and then run away like a thief in the night and not even leaving me with a glimpse of a memory of it.» he concluded, and could not look at her anymore. He felt too exposed. He didn't say, but of course he craved it. She understood that he did not look for her, because he maybe hoped to remember... because years later he remembered that night as a human Doctor in Glasgow and...

«You are so... stupid, stupid!» she said angrily at him «you would rather try and remember the night I spent with some human form of yours, that had nothing of what you have, and had a heart less than yours to love me than just... just hug me or kiss me or ask me to stay forever, to have me as I want to have you.»

She was so furious she was about to slap him.

«Stop being jealous of yourself, stop feeling guilty, stop regretting.» she added then, exasperated. He turned then, and dropped down in his knees. He took her hands, she tried to take them away from him but didn't fight too hard. He kissed them and stood up again, almost playing with her fingers, his eyes on them.

«I am sorry.» he whispered, in a low, Scottish but sweet tone.

«You have two hearts, Doctor.» she said, putting her hands on his chest, and smiled the most wonderful smile of the Universe when she felt them beating so fast. «I know I am only human, and we might have will be just a moment in the long recurring of Time itself. But... regrets hurt more. Please. Let me be selfish, let me have a love like no other: yours. Let it be your gift to me.»

He raised his head, he looked into her eyes. He smiled, and he knew. He may get to the point were pain would stop him breathing at the mere recollection of her memory, but he would be very cruel to not give her what she really deserved: both hearts of a Time Lord.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The song, if you want to know, it's of course Ballroom Blitz by the Sweets.  
> The Rock Garden is the place where the Dreamboys, Capaldi's band, used to play, in Glasgow! Look it up :D


End file.
